Love of the Game (21 page)

“People often feel threatened by things that are different. It reflects their ignorance, not your reality.”

If she were the kind of woman who blushed, Kasha's cheeks would be heating, but she wasn't, so her cheeks did not burn, but she felt light, airy, and happier than she'd felt since . . . well . . . she couldn't remember ever feeling quite this happy, and it was all because of Axel.

He gave her laughter and levity and playfulness. He'd awakened her from a sleep she hadn't even known she'd been in. He surprised her and delighted her, and every time he smiled at her, she was enchanted. He accepted Emma without reservations, treated her kindly, patiently. He'd gotten under Kasha's skin and in her blood, and she needed him far more than she wanted to admit.

She wanted to let down her guard, let him in, give him the passion she'd been saving up for years, but she didn't dare. Couldn't. Not with so much at stake.

“I . . . I . . . It's not. I'm not . . .” She struggled to find the words to express all the emotions pushing at the seams of her heart.

“What?” he prompted.

“I didn't expect this.” Weakly, she flapped her wrist at the painting.

“Here's the question. Do you . . .” He paused, swallowing so forcefully his Adam's apple pumped. “. . . like it?”

“I do,” she murmured. “I like it very much, but in it I seem so . . .” She put an index finger to her chin, tilted her head. “. . . faraway.”

“You often have that exact look on your face,” he said. “As if you're keeping an unknowable secret.”

The way he'd captured her was unsettling, and far too eerily accurate. It was as if he could see straight into her, and recognized the dark corners of her soul, and liked her all the more because of them.

Forget about the painting. You can't get sucked in. Say what you came here to say.

Kasha inhaled audibly, steadying herself. “I'm going to call Dr. Harrison and tender my resignation. Effective immediately.”

“What?” His jaw dropped and his eyes rounded, and he looked . . .
betrayed
.

“I'm quitting.” She said it as gently and kindly as she could.

“No.” His chin hardened.

“Yes.”

“You're jumping ship midway through my recovery?” Axel stepped closer. The harsh undercurrent in his tone matched the furrow between his eyebrows.

“It's for the best.” She fiddled with her college ring on the third finger of her right hand, rotating it around and around.

“Why?”

Kasha tucked her chin in, pulled her shoulders downward, but kept them razor-straight like she did
in yoga class, anchoring herself inside her body, pulling everything in to keep her mind from flying away at the sight of his hot, fiery eyes. “You know why.”

He glared, hard-edged, accusatory, but she refused to flinch against the blade of his gaze.

“Because of last night.” His voice deepened. “Because of the kiss.”

“Yes.”

“It was just a kiss.”

“You know it wasn't.”

“We've got chemistry yes,” he admitted. “But we don't have to act on it.”

“You . . . we . . . already did.”

“How about this? Let's forget the kiss even happened. Put it behind us.”

“We can't, and you know it. We'll kiss again and kissing will lead to . . .” She glanced away, unable to bear the brunt of his scrutiny. “Other things. I can't betray myself like that. I can't and I won't.”

“What about Emma?” he asked. “Won't being unemployed make it harder for you to get custody?”

“I'll get another job. They haven't replaced me at my old position. My parents have already offered to help out anyway they can with Emma. I'll be fine. You're the one I'm worried about.”

“Me?” He looked first startled and then his lips plucked upward. “Why are you worried about me?”

“I'm afraid you'll slip back into your old ways. Stop relaxing. Forget about your art.” She nodded at the painting. “Push yourself past the point of no return, or give in and agree to the surgery in a desperate bid to get back on the mound.”

“If you're so concerned, then stay.” His eyes were magnets, pulling her in. “We can work this out.”

“We can't. I can't.”

They stared at each other for a long time, neither moving nor speaking.

Finally, she moved to the back door, rested her hand on the knob. “I have to go.”

Curtly, he nodded.

And didn't try to stop her as she fled.

A
xel didn't stop Kasha because his mental wheels were churning. If she left the Gunslingers there was nothing standing in the way of them hooking up. While he hated losing her as his therapist, there was nothing stopping him from hitting a home run.

The red-hot dreams he'd been struggling to suppress came roaring to life, and his body got hard just thinking about her.

She had baggage, sure as shit, but he was the guy to help her unpack. He had a few stuffed bags of his own, and she didn't seem put off.

What about the Yankees? What about your big plans?

If he got what he wanted, he'd be living in New York. And Kasha was anchored to her family, and this town. He couldn't very well expect her to rearrange her entire life for him.

C'mon, Richmond. Honestly?
What were the odds that he'd make it to the Yankees? Probably a little better than a million-to-one, but not much. Was he going to let that remote possibility stop him from pursuing the woman he wanted?

He thought of Kasha—the taste of those honeyed lips, the smell of her earthy scent, the feel of her smooth latte skin.

No. No, he was not.

He wanted her. Needed her. Had to have her.

Problem was, how to convince Kasha to give their relationship a chance?

A
fter Kasha left the ranch, she called Dr. Harrison, and he accepted Kasha's resignation without trying to talk her out of it. Which was both a relief and a kick to the ego.

Dr. Harrison told her he would call Axel and arrange for him to return to Dallas. Paul Hernandez would assume his former role as Axel's therapist. And the front office would mail Kasha her final check.

All was well in Gunslingers world.

After that, she went to see her old boss, Linda Smothers, at Stardust General Hospital, and asked for her job back as head of physical therapy.

“Oh thank heavens,” Linda said. “I've been beating the bushes for someone to replace you, and we couldn't find a single applicant with your skill set. Yes, yes, please come back. I convinced management they'd have to bump the salary in order to get someone with your qualifications, so you're in for a 5K a year raise.”

It wasn't even in the ballpark of her salary with the Gunslingers, but it was something, and Kasha readily accepted without negotiating. She needed a job if she was going to petition the court for custody of Emma.

Speaking of Emma, she also called Molly Banks and arranged for Emma to spend the night with her on Friday. Hopefully this stab at a sleepover would take.

Then she had time to kill.

On Wednesday, she hung out at Timeless Treasures chatting with her parents about Emma and making plans, and then dropped by Jodi's B&B to see how things were going with her pregnancy.

By four o'clock that afternoon she'd run out of ways to occupy herself, and she started thinking about Axel again, and that stirred up a firestorm of emotions.

Stop it. Clear your mind.

Yoga.

But not home alone. She needed to be around other people. She'd go to the yoga studio. Stretch him out of her mind.

But when Kasha walked into the studio she found Axel already there, signing up for the five p.m. class.

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Seriously?

“Shouldn't you be in Dallas?”

“I told them I needed a couple of days to pack.”

“So what are you doing here? Why aren't you packing?”

“Somebody once told me to try a yoga class,” he said. “So I thought I might.”

“Okay,” she said, ignoring the thump of her pulse. She turned for the door. “Have a good workout.”

“You're not staying?”

“I forgot I have some things to do.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder.

“You're letting me run you off.”

“I'm not.”

“Then do your errands later.” His gaze both cajoled and challenged, daring her to stay.

“Kasha,” called the instructor from the doorway of the classroom. “We haven't seen you in a while. Come on in.”

Because of the long hours created by her drive to Dallas, she hadn't been to the studio much since she'd started working for the Gunslingers.

“Yes.” Axel grinned. “Come on in.”

Fine. She wasn't going to let him get under her
skin. Ignoring him as best she could, Kasha went into the classroom, staked out her usual spot, and unfurled her mat.

A few minutes later, she hung in a Forward Fold, her hands cradling her elbows, her head and shoulder loose in Ragdoll Pose, trying to tame her stampeding pulse and stop thinking about Axel, who was on the yoga mat in front of her.

She wasn't going to look at his butt, no, not she. Her eyes were staying tightly closed.

Not a peek. Not a glimmer.

Kasha turned her head, and from her upside-down position, cracked open one eye.

Hot damn, but the man had an amazing ass!

Both eyes popped open wide.

Fudge. This so was not her. She was proud of her self-control. But dammit, once opened, her eyes refused to close.

“Sweep upward,” said the instructor.

Through the material of his cotton T-shirt, Kasha could see Axel's taut ass muscles flex and move. She was so glad that he was in front of her and not vice versa. Although it would be even better if he weren't here at all, invading
her
sanctuary.

Better still if she could stop scoping out his hard body, and noticing how he was built, and thinking about that night at the lake. And remembering just how good he tasted.

“And swan dive down,” guided the instructor.

“How am I doing?” Axel whispered to Kasha from between his legs.

“Shh.”

“I caught you checking me out. My form okay?”

“Your form is fine. Your mouth, however, moves way too much,” she whispered back.

“Wanna go for coffee after this?”

“No.”

“My treat.”

“You really don't know the meaning of ‘no,' do you?”

“Do you have a question, Kasha?” asked the instructor.

“I'm good,” she told the instructor. To Axel, she whispered, “Shut up.”

Thankfully, he did shut up, and she spent the next hour keeping her eyes focused on the teacher.

“On your backs,” the instructor called at the end of the workout.

During the Savasana, the final pose of the session, Kasha lay quiet, unmoving, and when the rest of the class gathered up their yoga mats and drifted out of the studio, she kept her eyes squeezed tightly closed, listening to Axel roll up his mat and walk away. When she was certain the room was empty, she let out a long breath, opened her eyes, and got up.

But when she stepped out into the lobby, there he was, leaning one insouciant shoulder against the wall, throwing her a sunbeam smile. She shouldn't encourage him, but the dangerous part of her she couldn't seem to control smiled back.

Dammit, she was done for.

He held the door open, held her gaze. “Coffee?”

She nodded helplessly, hefted her yoga mat sling over her shoulder, and followed him like it was a foregone conclusion. They walked across the street to the coffee shop, and Kasha couldn't help admiring his height. He made her feel, if not exactly petite, definitely more feminine.

He held the door open for her again when they entered the coffee shop. They placed their order and he
guided her to a table. A few minutes later he hopped up to pick up his espresso and her iced coffee.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, feeling her body heat the way it did every time she was near him.

Axel pulled his wooden chair closer to hers.

An uncomfortable silence settled over them as they simultaneously sipped their drinks.

“Used up all your witty conversation in class, did you?” she finally asked.

“You told me to shut up.” A sly, wry smile plucked the corners of his mouth up in an I'm-not-playing-by-any-particular-rules grin.

“So . . .” Kasha scooted her chair back. “Catch you later. Thanks again for the coffee.”

His big palm settled on hers, stilling her. “Stay.”

“I'm not a Labrador retriever you can boss around.”

“You've never owned a Labrador retriever,” he stated with absolute certainty.

“How do you know? I might have.”

“You didn't. Otherwise you would know they have minds of their own.”

“Since you're comparing me to a Labrador, then you won't be surprised when I disobey your commands.” Kasha slipped her hand out from under his, her pulse bounding wildly, and stood up.

“Actually, I expected you to bolt and run.”

Well, fudge. She couldn't very well do what he expected. She plunked back down. This time, his grin was a tad less self-assured, and that pleased her.

“You're staying?”

“Don't push it, dude.” She stared at his lips, feeling exasperated and bewildered and horny as all get-out.

“Dude?” His smile widened.

“It's something people say.” She shrugged, but
the casual gesture didn't do anything to ward off the brushfire building in her solar plexus every time he peered deeply into her eyes.

“Other people say it.” He leaned in closer, so close she could smell his thyme-scented cologne. “Not you.”

“Hey, apparently I do, since I just said it.”

“You called me dude to keep me at a distance.”

“Right, because a word is as good as metal armor.”

“It can be. The way you wield it. Dude makes me sound silly and shallow.”

“If the dude fits . . .” She shrugged again, letting her shoulders linger up around her jawline for a second.

He pretended to pluck his tongue from his mouth and file it against an imaginary whetstone before popping it back into his mouth. “Sharpened and ready to duel. Let me have it, Sphinx.”

Kasha rolled her eyes and pressed her lips together tight to keep from smiling. She was
not
going to encourage him.

“I'm being funny,” he said, “but I want to have a serious conversation.”

“What about?”

“Us.”

“T
here is no
us
,” she said calmly, levelly, and anyone who didn't know her would say she meant it.

But Axel knew better. He knew she kept her feelings wrapped up tight, too afraid of losing control to let them off the leash.

“Why are you so scared of having a relationship with me? I'm not your patient anymore.”

“I didn't quit so we could hook up. The reason I can't be with you hasn't changed. I'm still a therapist even if I'm not
your
therapist.”

“So?”

“A therapist/patient sexual relationship is wrong because of the inequality of power. When you're a patient, you're vulnerable. For me to engage in a sexual relationship with you puts me in control, and gives me an advantage.”

“Sounds like a cop-out to me.”

“You're weak, vulnerable. I can't . . . won't take advantage of that fact.”

Quickly, Axel stuck both his feet around the rungs of her chair legs, and before she could even react, he yanked her, chair and all, right across the cement toward him.

Her eyes widened as he grasped the back of her chair with both hands and leaned his body over her, his face firmly planted in front of her.

“Anything about me look weak and vulnerable to you, Sphinx?”

Ulp. No
.

“You know what I think?” he asked, his voice low, his lips devastatingly close, his knees bumped against hers, his hands gripping both of her shoulders.

She bobbed her head, unable to find her voice.

“I think you're so scared of your own sexuality. That you're terrified of feeling your true power.”

How did he know? Could he read it in her face? No way. She'd spent years learning how to keep her feelings from showing on her face, hours in front of a mirror honing her skills. How had her practice failed her?

“No? Fine, go ahead and keep your secrets Sphinx,” he said, and shook his head as if she'd greatly disappointed him. “I'm just damn worried about you.”

“Don't fret about me.” She notched up her chin so
he wouldn't see the uncertainty in her eyes. “I can take care of myself.”

“You really don't want people scaling your ivy-covered walls, do you?”

“And yet you keep trying to climb them. Maybe I should cut down the ivy and grow something with thorns?”

“Where's a machete when I need one?” He cast a glance around as if searching for a honed blade to slice her defenses to ribbons.

“Wal-Mart. Aisle ten.”

“I'm getting the feeling that by the time I got back from Wal-Mart the vines will be so thick I'd need to go back for a chain saw.”

“Could be,” she said mildly, vaulting over the fact her pulse was pounding hard and fast.

“Okay then, if you're not interested in pursuing something with me, then come back to work for the Gunslingers,” he said.

“I can't.”

“Because of me?”

“No. Because of me. I broke my code of ethics when I kissed you, and I don't like me very much right now.”

“Don't worry.” He winked, and the gesture sent a fizz of something hot and strange bursting through her veins. “I like you plenty for the both of us.”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Being charming. It's irritating.”

He pulled a face. “First time I've ever heard that one.”

“Some people find charm exhausting.” She wished she could scoot back, but he held fast to her chair
with his feet. She couldn't even get up without tripping over him.

“And you're one of those people?”

“Yes.”

“You are such a liar. You are just afraid you'll like me too much, and then, gasp, where will you be? All these messy feelings to deal with. News flash, darling. Life is messy when you're living it full-out.”